Just to warn you, there could be a while before a new part as I have exams and such. So no cliff-hanger ending.
Thanks for the reviews you lovely people.
**PART TWO**
CHAPTER THREE
"I need to patrol!" She declared suddenly. "I haven't been out for days. Demons are probably running a-mock, in the way that they do. A-mocking all round town, with evil grins and dastardly plans." She looked across the sofa at him.
"So?"
"Well..." she began, remembering the technique from the thousand times she had wrapped her mom round her little finger, remembering it most recently from Dawn, "you could come too?"
He raised an eyebrow at that. "And do what? Watch while you kill my kind? Not my idea of fun, Love."
"You don't have to watch." She leaned in and shuffled closer to him. "You could close your eyes, real tight, like I used to tell Dawn to when scary things came on television."
He still didn't react, not even looking up from the book he was reading. (He reads?) She bounced into a cross-armed mock-sulk and caught him smiling out of the corner of her eye. She grinned and nudged him. "Come on, it'd just be like a walk and you *really* don't have to watch."
He finally looked at her, just briefly but enough for her to know that he was going to win the point. "So if I don't see it, it doesn't happen, right?"
(OK, there's that evil logic thing again.)
She said nothing, stared forward, her mouth twisting in defeat. The minutes trickled away and she began to hum to fend off the eternal silence that encroached on them. She examined her nails half-heartedly and sighed again. And still, more minutes, more nervously filled silence, while he just carried on reading, turning a page every thousandth eternity.
Her patience finally splintered under the strain with an almost audible crackle and she snatched the book away from him, laughing at his feeble growl.
"Are you being sponsored to be this annoying?"
"No, you get this for free. Count yourself lucky."
"Oh, yeah, I'm a lucky man." His voice was hardened with something very much like sarcasm and she frowned at him for a moment before dragging him up.
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-
"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" She asked, noting his tenseness.
He scanned the area in front of them and then turned his keen eyes on her. "'Course I am. Got a reputation to uphold, you know."
Rolling her eyes, she walked into him, making him veer dangerously close to a lamppost. He scraped to a stop and glared at her. "Watch where you're going, woman."
"I tell you what, if some Vamps come by, I'll pretend to be frisking you."
"Oh yeah, that'll work. It'll be all round town that I'm some sort of nancy boy that lets the Slayer pick on him."
"What is your prob- ?" Watching him scope the street again, paying particular attention to alleyways and shadowed spots, it occurred to her just what he was doing. "Stop that, you just ate."
He turned to her with a smirk and she was alarmed by the complete lack of warmth in his expression. There was humour in his eyes but it was icy and his gaze jagged like the shattered fragments of that damned urn. (Big-Bad-mode. I should have expected it. Any minute now he's gonna light a cigarette on me.)
"Just because I'm all full up doesn't stop me drooling over the desert trolley." He sneered and freeze surged through her veins.
"Oh my God! That's really all people are to you isn't it? Just *'Desert'*?" She spat the word out through gritted teeth as she endeavoured to maintain a hold over her rising anger.
"And this is what, some big revelation to you? News-flash here, Love," he pointed at himself, "evil, blood-sucking Vampire."
She flinched and stared at him, wondering where he had gone. This was him, sure, the 'him' she knew from her parent-teacher night, the him she knew from that Halloween. But not the him of the past week. Maybe it was all the same, all part of the same wacky package. He was trying to show her again, give her a way out. Again.
"What's up, Love? It's not like I'll make you watch. You can close your eyes, *real* tight, and pretend I'm something I'm not." He stepped up to her, invading her space, but she stood firm, jutting her chin up defiantly. "If you don't see it, it doesn't happen. Right?"
The anger shot up her arm and she wasn't aware of the movement, only the consequences. His stagger backwards, his hand coming up to his eye, the murderous glower that dissolved far too quickly, the naked hurt that flitted across his features for the briefest moment. But then the confrontational glare was back in place and the hand came back down to his side to reveal a flaring pink mark. He was marred again, only this time by her.
She forced herself not to waver, pulling her abdominal muscles in against the nauseating strain in her solar plexus. "I told you before, kill anyone and I'll 'punctuate your full-stop', all right." Her voice was low enough to be threatening and stable enough to be believed and she willed herself on.
"Now I'm going home now. You can do what the hell you like." She fixed him with a stare and stepped down, turning on her heel and beginning to walk away.
"You're not the only one who has a problem with this, Buffy." She stopped at the sound of her name, but didn't turn around. She could hear his soles scuffing along the pavement in frustration and then felt his solid presence behind her as he whispered: "I hate it."
Gasping as air surged in her throat, she spun round to face him. "Then why are you still here? Why don't you just leave, like -?"
"You really don't get it do you?" His voice was so quiet, she almost didn't recognise it.
"How can I understand any of this?"
"How can I *expect* you to?" The loud bellow contrasting against his previous whisper.
"Then why, why don't you explain it to me? What are you doing with me, when you hate me *so* much?"
He opened his mouth to speak, to yell, and then paused, blinking as if he had forgotten what he had to say or even the question itself. Finally he looked at her, his eyes free of all anger and frustration, reflecting the moonlight and something else she couldn't place.
"I hate that I *don't* hate you."
He held her stare for just a moment longer and was then striding away from her. She let him go. Knowing that he would be back.
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Lifting her head as she returned from patrol she smiled at the sight in front of her.
"Hey."
He didn't reply, simply acknowledging her with a nod of his head, taking a long drag from his cigarette and continuing to stare into the middle distance.
He shrugged along the step and she came to sit beside him. They sat in silence, both watching the writhes of thin blue smoke quivering up from his fizzling cigarette.
"I don't think I hate you either." She said finally, her eyes still fixed forwards.
"You don't 'think'?"
She felt him look at her and smiled. "No, I know. I haven't hated you for a long time. Not since that... thing with Angel."
She met his eyes briefly and he nodded again. The cigarette smoke became very interesting once more and the silence resumed, taking an umpire's seat above them as they sat, transfixed by the ethereal blue.
"Seen as you mentioned all this not-hate stuff," she began, "how much extremey-ness are we talking here?"
"Not much."
She frowned and found herself looking into his eyes again. "So you still kinda dislike me?"
He let out a short laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling for an instant. "You know was the opposite of hate is?"
"No, but I have a feeling you're gonna tell me."
He smiled slightly at that and she wondered why she wasn't more panicked by this, more nervous.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. Apathy."
"Oh," she paused, testing out her sentence in her head before speaking: "well I don't feel... 'nothing'."
"No?"
"No." A small smile flitted over his face and she found herself mirroring it. A sudden shiver gripped her and she tensed against it, shifting closer to him.
"And you?"
"No, me neither." He leant back slightly, his arm curving over her head and his hand coming to rest behind her. She took the hint and sighed as her head came to rest against his shoulder.
Feeling his eyes on her as she closed her own, she smiled at the instinctual knowledge and the comforting warmth it gave her. She heard him take a last drag of his cigarette and flick it away and so inhaled the subtler hint of tobacco imbued in his leather.
"No. This is definitely something."
TBC
Thanks for the reviews you lovely people.
**PART TWO**
CHAPTER THREE
"I need to patrol!" She declared suddenly. "I haven't been out for days. Demons are probably running a-mock, in the way that they do. A-mocking all round town, with evil grins and dastardly plans." She looked across the sofa at him.
"So?"
"Well..." she began, remembering the technique from the thousand times she had wrapped her mom round her little finger, remembering it most recently from Dawn, "you could come too?"
He raised an eyebrow at that. "And do what? Watch while you kill my kind? Not my idea of fun, Love."
"You don't have to watch." She leaned in and shuffled closer to him. "You could close your eyes, real tight, like I used to tell Dawn to when scary things came on television."
He still didn't react, not even looking up from the book he was reading. (He reads?) She bounced into a cross-armed mock-sulk and caught him smiling out of the corner of her eye. She grinned and nudged him. "Come on, it'd just be like a walk and you *really* don't have to watch."
He finally looked at her, just briefly but enough for her to know that he was going to win the point. "So if I don't see it, it doesn't happen, right?"
(OK, there's that evil logic thing again.)
She said nothing, stared forward, her mouth twisting in defeat. The minutes trickled away and she began to hum to fend off the eternal silence that encroached on them. She examined her nails half-heartedly and sighed again. And still, more minutes, more nervously filled silence, while he just carried on reading, turning a page every thousandth eternity.
Her patience finally splintered under the strain with an almost audible crackle and she snatched the book away from him, laughing at his feeble growl.
"Are you being sponsored to be this annoying?"
"No, you get this for free. Count yourself lucky."
"Oh, yeah, I'm a lucky man." His voice was hardened with something very much like sarcasm and she frowned at him for a moment before dragging him up.
-
-
-
-
"Are you ashamed to be seen with me?" She asked, noting his tenseness.
He scanned the area in front of them and then turned his keen eyes on her. "'Course I am. Got a reputation to uphold, you know."
Rolling her eyes, she walked into him, making him veer dangerously close to a lamppost. He scraped to a stop and glared at her. "Watch where you're going, woman."
"I tell you what, if some Vamps come by, I'll pretend to be frisking you."
"Oh yeah, that'll work. It'll be all round town that I'm some sort of nancy boy that lets the Slayer pick on him."
"What is your prob- ?" Watching him scope the street again, paying particular attention to alleyways and shadowed spots, it occurred to her just what he was doing. "Stop that, you just ate."
He turned to her with a smirk and she was alarmed by the complete lack of warmth in his expression. There was humour in his eyes but it was icy and his gaze jagged like the shattered fragments of that damned urn. (Big-Bad-mode. I should have expected it. Any minute now he's gonna light a cigarette on me.)
"Just because I'm all full up doesn't stop me drooling over the desert trolley." He sneered and freeze surged through her veins.
"Oh my God! That's really all people are to you isn't it? Just *'Desert'*?" She spat the word out through gritted teeth as she endeavoured to maintain a hold over her rising anger.
"And this is what, some big revelation to you? News-flash here, Love," he pointed at himself, "evil, blood-sucking Vampire."
She flinched and stared at him, wondering where he had gone. This was him, sure, the 'him' she knew from her parent-teacher night, the him she knew from that Halloween. But not the him of the past week. Maybe it was all the same, all part of the same wacky package. He was trying to show her again, give her a way out. Again.
"What's up, Love? It's not like I'll make you watch. You can close your eyes, *real* tight, and pretend I'm something I'm not." He stepped up to her, invading her space, but she stood firm, jutting her chin up defiantly. "If you don't see it, it doesn't happen. Right?"
The anger shot up her arm and she wasn't aware of the movement, only the consequences. His stagger backwards, his hand coming up to his eye, the murderous glower that dissolved far too quickly, the naked hurt that flitted across his features for the briefest moment. But then the confrontational glare was back in place and the hand came back down to his side to reveal a flaring pink mark. He was marred again, only this time by her.
She forced herself not to waver, pulling her abdominal muscles in against the nauseating strain in her solar plexus. "I told you before, kill anyone and I'll 'punctuate your full-stop', all right." Her voice was low enough to be threatening and stable enough to be believed and she willed herself on.
"Now I'm going home now. You can do what the hell you like." She fixed him with a stare and stepped down, turning on her heel and beginning to walk away.
"You're not the only one who has a problem with this, Buffy." She stopped at the sound of her name, but didn't turn around. She could hear his soles scuffing along the pavement in frustration and then felt his solid presence behind her as he whispered: "I hate it."
Gasping as air surged in her throat, she spun round to face him. "Then why are you still here? Why don't you just leave, like -?"
"You really don't get it do you?" His voice was so quiet, she almost didn't recognise it.
"How can I understand any of this?"
"How can I *expect* you to?" The loud bellow contrasting against his previous whisper.
"Then why, why don't you explain it to me? What are you doing with me, when you hate me *so* much?"
He opened his mouth to speak, to yell, and then paused, blinking as if he had forgotten what he had to say or even the question itself. Finally he looked at her, his eyes free of all anger and frustration, reflecting the moonlight and something else she couldn't place.
"I hate that I *don't* hate you."
He held her stare for just a moment longer and was then striding away from her. She let him go. Knowing that he would be back.
-
-
-
-
Lifting her head as she returned from patrol she smiled at the sight in front of her.
"Hey."
He didn't reply, simply acknowledging her with a nod of his head, taking a long drag from his cigarette and continuing to stare into the middle distance.
He shrugged along the step and she came to sit beside him. They sat in silence, both watching the writhes of thin blue smoke quivering up from his fizzling cigarette.
"I don't think I hate you either." She said finally, her eyes still fixed forwards.
"You don't 'think'?"
She felt him look at her and smiled. "No, I know. I haven't hated you for a long time. Not since that... thing with Angel."
She met his eyes briefly and he nodded again. The cigarette smoke became very interesting once more and the silence resumed, taking an umpire's seat above them as they sat, transfixed by the ethereal blue.
"Seen as you mentioned all this not-hate stuff," she began, "how much extremey-ness are we talking here?"
"Not much."
She frowned and found herself looking into his eyes again. "So you still kinda dislike me?"
He let out a short laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling for an instant. "You know was the opposite of hate is?"
"No, but I have a feeling you're gonna tell me."
He smiled slightly at that and she wondered why she wasn't more panicked by this, more nervous.
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. Apathy."
"Oh," she paused, testing out her sentence in her head before speaking: "well I don't feel... 'nothing'."
"No?"
"No." A small smile flitted over his face and she found herself mirroring it. A sudden shiver gripped her and she tensed against it, shifting closer to him.
"And you?"
"No, me neither." He leant back slightly, his arm curving over her head and his hand coming to rest behind her. She took the hint and sighed as her head came to rest against his shoulder.
Feeling his eyes on her as she closed her own, she smiled at the instinctual knowledge and the comforting warmth it gave her. She heard him take a last drag of his cigarette and flick it away and so inhaled the subtler hint of tobacco imbued in his leather.
"No. This is definitely something."
TBC